poetry

On Thomas Hardy’s “The Self-Unseeing” and “The Haunter”
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I just heard US Poet Laureate Billy Collins read this poem on A Prairie Home Companion. I loved it so much that I decided to re-print it here.

Forgetfulness
The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never
even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a
bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
Billy Collins

In which I try to, “Discuss the differences in the ways the image of sunset functions in Wordsworth’s Intimations of Immortality and Coleridge’s The Lime-Tree.” (1994)
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This is a collection of papers, take-home exams, class presentations, essays, fiction, bad poetry, whatever … As much of my writing that I could find on this hard drive …
Enjoy!
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Linguasso (for lingual and Picasso) creates totally random works of art, composed of text and based on varying emotions [which have been] put into a small library. It chooses an emotion, then displays associated words and dynamically created sentences in random fonts, sizes and places. It’s quite addictive to watch over and over again, as each design seems to tell its own story.

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Sitting in the Office
A haiku:

work goes well - music
Alanis M in headphones
battery dies. blah.

I grow old … I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

This is one of my favorites from a long list of computer error messages in haiku:

Yesterday it worked
Today it is not working
Windows is like that

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Wow! Headline Haikus!
All Your News in Seventeen
Syllables! Awesome.

This is just a crappy poem I wrote while a student at Father Lopez Catholic High School in Daytona Beach, FL.
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Here are some really bad poems that I wrote sometime in 1991, my senior year of high school.
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… this is something I wrote on 02.22.91 … seems like forever ago … Ms. Bowman gave me a 94 …
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This is another poem I wrote a long, long time ago - 1991 actually.
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This is a poem I wrote a long, long time ago …
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